If I live to be a hundred, I'll never know why she picked us as her party mates for the night. She never said and neither one of us ever asked. Maybe ...t was because we weren't trying to impress her like some of the other romeos out there.Our costumes weren't terribly exotic or original. I was dressed as a Roman gladiator (a glad-he-ate-her, har-har) and Nick was a Greek god of some sort.I had found some old sandals I'd had and rigged them up with leather straps to look like Roman shoes. I had. Her hair bounced in a ponytail.In a flurry, she leaned back into the house and yelled, "I'm off, Mom," before slamming the front door closed, bouncing down the stairs, pausing to give me a tight hug, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and grabbing her helmet. She put it on. "Come on! Let's go!" she exclaimed, swinging one long, bare leg over the seat.The flurry of motion resumed when we arrived at my place. Both of us ran up to the second floor. Keys were fumbled, the door refusing to open.. More

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